I know You're Lying
by Twitchzx
Summary: Everyone deserves a second chance, even a certain russian assassin. This is a fic about how Clint met Natasha, and the second chance bestowed on them both.
1. Chapter 1

IKYL-1

Author's Note :

Hey there! I love clintasha so much that i've decided to write a fanfic lol (aou made me ship them even harder xx) This is my very first attempt at writing fanfiction so please be nice :) This fic will be multi-chaptered so stay tuned! Reviews would be appreciated greatly! :D I've decided to re-edit and possibly revamp the entire story :))

-Twitchzx

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"Barton I want you in the briefing room in five."

"Nice try Coulson, I'm not leaving my bed till' I see the sun" Clint groaned.

"Barton I'm warning you, Fury's still barking mad at the indoor firework display you put up."

"Gah, fine. I hate you by the way."

"Hate me all you want, just get your ass here." said Coulson good-naturedly.

He jumped down from the vents and landed lightly on his feet, before shrugging on his standard set of SHIELD-issued clothing - home to at least a dozen knifes. Even though he might have joined SHIELD, he never felt safe here. Not even once. The closest thing he felt to safe was with Coulson, and before him was his dear brother but that was until he decided to kill him. Now, he has no one left, except probably Coulson.

Oh shit, Coulson! He was definitely late and his handler was going to bite his head off.

Brisk walking to the briefing room was fun. Some of the people in the corridor glared at him with hatred - angry at how he is working for SHIELD despite everything he had done in the past. Others were pretending to be busy with their hands, but were secretly observing him out of the corner of their eyes - ready to flee if he showed any sudden movements. He knew that, because he once tested the waters by shoving his hand in his jacket suddenly, as if reaching for a weapon. Almost half the people flinched. But the only thing he held was a piece of gum. It was also not a surprise that some people simply gawked at him in awe - he was Clint Barton aka. Hawkeye, the guy who would choose a bow and arrow over a gun anyday, yet being as efficient as the latter. And he has never missed a shot. Never.

"Look who finally decided to show up." said Fury, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Better late than never, Director" replied Clint cheekily, with his signature grin.

"How about I change that? Fancy paperwork duty? What do you say Coulson?"

Clint significantly paled and his retorts died in his mouth. Sighing, "What's the mission this time?" he asked.

"Operation: Arachnid. Ever heard of The Black Widow? Judging from your expression, you are absolutely clueless. Okay, nevermind. Natalia Alianova Romanova aka. The Black Widow, an unstoppable killing machine created by the KGB. Whoever the KGB chooses to kill, that person dies. We've been tracking her for years, but she's good at what she does. Latest intel tells us that her current location is in Italy, a quinjet will be waiting tomorrow at 5AM sharp. Your mission is simple - terminate her. Everything else you need to know is in this folder. Any questions?" stated Fury, gesturing to the manila folder on the table.

"Yeah. Is she hot?" Barton grinned.

Coulson rolled his eyes and Fury simply turned his head to glare at the young agent with his one good eye and said "Get your head in the game Barton, don't underestimate her. One wrong move and you're dead. There's no room for mistakes."

Sensing the seriousness in his voice, Clint nodded. He knew this could be his very last mission.

Bringing the folder into his room, Clint started studying his mission. The first thing he noticed in the photo of the target was her eyes. They were striking emerald green. The next thing he noticed was her hair- it was red, crimson in fact, looking as if it has been kissed by fire.

The Next Day

Coulson was waiting for him by the quinjet when Clint arrived. He tossed a earpiece to Clint and made him swear he would check in every hour. "Overprotective..."Clint muttered to himself.

"What did you say"

"Nuthin'"

"Remember-"

"Watch my back, Check-in every hour and- "

"Be careful, Clint."

"Oh yeah, sure, that. Stop worrying Coulson, s'gonna be fine."

With that, Clint boarded the quinjet.

Once he touched down, Clint headed to one of the many safe houses owned by SHIELD. It was located in the middle of the city, sandwiched between two quiet alleys. The house was in a sorry state - paint was peeling off the walls and the doors creaked when opened. Thank god for proper windows, that's one less thing to booby trap. Poking around a bit more, he discovered a balcony which could lead him to the roof. He figured he could set-up his equipment on the roof, certain that no one but him would be able to access the roof; Unless said person was able to jump and catch a ledge about 4 feet above him and pull himself up without falling 6 stories. It was the perfect place for Clint to survey, and not be surveyed, he does see better from a distance after all.

Lying in bed, he figured he would first locate where Natalia was residing and the places she frequented. He would then keep an eye on her, blending in with the crowd effortlessly. He would wait patiently with the target in his sights for an opportune time, then he would strike. Simple. Oh, he had no idea.

The next day, he put on his game-face and turned on his comms.

"Operation: Arachnid Day 1 - target not yet spotted." Clint reported to Coulson. Coulson would handle this mission as a support, providing necessary information and updates, as well as orders for Clint while the latter did the actual mission.

"Goddamnit, it's freezing. Why would anybody even live here?!" complained Clint.

He was in a small market nearby searching for any trails that may lead him to his target. But the trail was as cold as the weather. Frustrated, he rubbed his hands together and blowed on them, trying to keep himself from freezing. The morning sun which was suffocated by ominous dark clouds did not help at all. He turned, about to leave the market empty-handed when he saw her.

She was about 8 feet away. Dressed in a long coat and pants, with a scarf that helped to cover much of her facial features. Yet he somehow knew it was her.

"She dyed her hair huh." Clint thought to himself, noticing that her hair was a hazel brown instead of red.

"Ugh, men are all the same. Why am i even here?" Natalia thought to herself, annoyed at how she was garnering attention from the wrong crowd because of her well-endowed body.

She walked to a stall selling bread and bought a couple of loaves. As she was about to return to her lodgings, she recognised a man - her mark.

Adam Humbert Parris was a brilliant scientist, his latest works consists of experiments on atoms that travel faster than light. He even had plans on fusing these atoms with people, something which caught the eyes of several nefarious organisations - the KGB was one of them. After failed negotiations on a possible partnership, the KGB decided to kill him lest he decided to work for others.

Discreetly walking towards his direction, Natalia bumped into him on purpose to attach a tracker on him. A split second was all she needed and the briefcase in his hands to fell to the floor with a clatter, providing the perfect diversion. When he looked up to see who had bumped into him, there was no one there.

Clint watched the entire exchange happen, impressed at how she pulled it off without a sweat.

"Right, the mission." he remembered, before hastily following the shrouded figure.

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A/N :

So what do you guys think? I was so appalled by the number of grammar mistakes I made D:

Feedback is more than welcome! (I'll love you 5eva)

In the next chapter: Clint begins his hunt for the elusive assassin. Will his cover be blown?


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note:

School has been really tough as of late, so I don't think I may update as often :( Maybe twice a month? Tbh, I'm really surprised that Chapter 1 received so many favourites :D Please review and tell me what I'm doing well/not well for this story?

-Twitchzx

* * *

After the incident at the market, Clint followed Natalia to her apartment, which was coincidentally located across his street; All the better for him to conduct surveillance.

He has his specially customised sniper rifle set-up, and he slung his trusty compound bow around his torso, with his arrows tucked neatly in the sheaf on his back. He had been keeping his eye on her ever since the incident at the market. Clint was used to staying perfectly still in the corner of his rooftop for nearly 6 hours, ensuring that she does not leave his sights. He was a sniper after all, waiting for the right moment for extended periods of time may be a chore to some, but it was his favourite part of the mission. And he knew that patience was crucial in eliminating the target in the most efficient manner.

However, staying still does not mean staying silent.

"Hey Coulson. Hey. Hey Coulson"

"What Barton?"

"How come I don't get to do a mission somewhere warm? I mean I always get the countries with the shittiest weather. Could you maybe let me go to...Hawaii next time? Yeah, Hawaii's good! At least its not fucking 8 degrees celsius out there! And I won't have to worry about freezing my butt off then..." Clint whined.

"Shut up Clint. I'm trying to finish paperwork, and you're being a pain in the ass." snapped Coulson.

"Wow, grouchy much? Anyway I need some info on this guy asap" Clint spoke into his comms, simultaneously sending a photo he took of Natalia's target. A brief pause could be heard, followed by a volley of furious clicking.

"He's Adam Humbert Parris, a scientist. His work includes the fusing of atoms capable of travelling at high speeds with human cells." rattled Coulson.

"So Adam somehow got on the KGB's shit-list huh. Poor sap." muttered Clint to himself, before returning his attention to his target.

Natalia knew her only chance in terminating Parris was to get close to him, as the chances of her arousing suspicion were lower. She was going to do it the old-fashioned way- get in, seduce, lure, kill. Just like she had been taught since young. It was her second nature now.

Sighing, she glanced at the tracker before heading out to Parris'scurrent location - a cafe about 2 streets away.

Observing that Natalia left her apartment, Clint followed stealthily, blending in with the looming shadows cast by the setting sun.

The rooftops were his preferred way of travelling. The combination of parkour and acrobatics just felt... right to him. However, what he loved most was the adrenaline rush during the few seconds he was airborne after leaping off a building, only to land on another. The constant danger he was facing only served as a reminder that he was indeed, alive.

He sensed that Natalia was approaching her destination due to the subtle quickening of her pace. She stopped right in front of Cafe Buon Appetit'. Eyes sweeping her surroundings, she thought she imagined a figure in the corner of her eyes, guessing it was a trick of the light, she entered the Cafe; Though not without her guards up.

"That was way too close." exhaled Clint, letting out the breath he was holding. He only had a millisecond's notice when he studied her body language. He ducked immediately when the slight shift in her head meant she was about to turn.

The perch on the rooftop where he was obstructed his view of the situation down below, as she was hidden beneath the Cafe's canopy. Frustrated, Clint decided to descend from his position to get closer to Natalia, thinking that acting as a customer would be the most effective cover.

Meanwhile, Natalia scanned the cafe for Parris. Finally spotting him sitting alone in the corner with papers in his hands. She ordered an expresso - she liked the bitterness, took a deep breath and walked towards her target. Thank the stars the cafe was crowded, giving her the perfect excuse to share the table with Parris.

"Cappuccino with extra sugar please" requested Clint. He collected his coffee from the counter and settled into the table nearest to his target. Clint watched as Natalia, who was wearing a disguise, slide into the seat opposite Parris. She started acting.

"Um... I was wondering, by any chance are you Adam Parris?" asked Natalia, even though she already knew the forced her voice to be as innocent as possible, enlarging her eyes for effect.

"Yes, yes I am. Why is tha-that a matter, dear?" It was extremely succesful, Parris was absolutely smitten by her.

"I read about your work on attaching high-speed atoms to human cells! Is it going well so far?" exclaimed Natalia feigning excitement.

"Not really. There are several c-complications as the human cells so-somehow keep rejecting the atoms." Parris said worriedly.

"Oh no, that's unfortunate. What are you planning to do next? Since the merging was not successful?" Natalia asked. Leaning forward a little, she gave Parris something to admire. His eyes widened and his pupils dilated. A good sign.

"I-I guess I'll be he-heading to the th-the A-Annual Scientist's Gala, t-to get some inspiration fr-from there." he replied, flustered.

Shaking his hand, Natalia wished him all the best before leaving. She wouldn't touch him if she had a choice, but she didn't have one. She needed his thumbprint, the 'invitation card' to the party.

Once again, Clint saw the entire exchange, noting the Gala (ugh, suits again) and the fact that Natalia may look somewhat innocent, she was anything but such. She stood up and was about to leave, when she spotted a familiar silhouette. Clint tilted his face slightly, allowing her to only see about 1/4 of his face.

"I've seen him before..." Natalia thought to herself, noting his unusual build - his bulkier upper body compared to his lower. At this time, her own alarm bells were ringing as she realised the figure outside the cafe was not a figment of her imagination.

Clint trailed after her too, sticking to higher terrain like before. He returned to his vantage point on his roof just before Natalia reached her apartment. Making himself comfortable, he resigned to the fact that he was going to be there for a long time.

He saw that the room he was watching has its light switched on, signalling the return of its owner. He remembered the address which the Gala would take place, having glsnced at the invitation card on Parris's table when he walked past. He had an above-average memory, blessing or curse he doesn't know. The Gala was 2 days away, and he was sure that there would be top-notch security, not that he could not fight them. He was just worried about attracting unwanted attention. However since that was where Natalia was heading to, he could use this opportunity to terminate her. The problem was, how was he going to get in? The vents! He could infiltrate the Gala using the air vents, though the idea of crawling through them in his suit was not very pleasant, at least he could get in.

On the next day, Natalia realised that something wasn't right. She saw the same silhouette of the man at the cafe on the rooftop opposite hers. She realised he was most probably another assassin sent to kill her. Nothing she never seen before. But what surprised her was the bow slung across his broad shoulders. Who the hell uses bows and arrows instead of guns? With a curious grin, she left something for him.

And that was how Clint Barton woke up the next day with some words scribbled on his mirror in lipstick.

"To rooftop ninja archer. 7.30PM at the Gala. Wear something nice. - The Black Widow." Taped beside her name was a thumbprint enclosed in a ziplock-bag.

"Guess I won't have to crawl through the vents after all."

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-TBC-

A/N:

I hope you liked this chapter! I love these two soooo much T^T Have a nice weekend ya'll!

Please review I need to know how I'm doing, whether I should continue writing this to the end or just screw it? So my dear readers, please please please review? I would appreciate it if you do! :)

Next Chapter: The Gala yay! (I promise that they'll talk to each other next chapter! ^^)


	3. Chapter 3

A/N:

Hey there! This is the longest chapter I've ever written so far! (2,274 words woooo!) It's been a tough week and I've been loaded with so much homework I think I'm gonna' drown in them D: I hope you'll enjoy reading this chapter! (I thought for very long to come up with it lol) Please don't forget to review! (They serve as my inspiration to keep me writing lol ) Have fun reading! 3

p.s. Listen to Flares / The Script (It matches the general feel of the story!)

-Twitchzx

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Natalia suspended herself from the ledge above the balcony, she watched the sleeping man that was sent to finish her. She flipped herself upright onto the balcony, entering once she picked the lock. Lying on the bed asleep was the legendary Hawkeye. Sure, she heard about him before, his record was a tough one to break- 326 people. He was sent to kill her, so she had to kill him first, it was that simple. He moaned in his sleep, something about a 'Barney'.

"Guess you're not spared from the nightmares too huh." thought Natalia.

She was right beside him now, her knife drawn, ready to take the life of the man as it did with many others. She knew he had many opportunities to kill her, but didn't. She knew he kept her in his cross-hairs for so long, but didn't pull the trigger. Now, she also knew that nightmares haunted him. Like her.

A minute passed. Two. Her knife still poised, ready. An unfamiliar wave of emotion washed over her. No. She can't do it. Not after what he's done. 'If he comes after me again; Then, I will kill him.' Natalia swore to herself. With that, she left a message on his mirror before vaulting out of the room as fast as her legs could carry her.

Clint Barton was a light sleeper. Many years in this field trained him be sensitive to his surroundings at all times, so that he could wake up at the slightest disturbance. His eyes snapped open when he heard a rustling sound coming from the living room. His entire being tensed and he reached for the combat knife he always slept with under his pillow. Rising from his bed silently, he held the knife which was a gift from Coulson in front of him, ready to strike at a moment's notice. He peeked from behind a divider and saw a flash of crimson. He instinctively ducked out of his cover to throw the knife at the figure. But he was too late. The knife sunk into the wall opposite with a solid thunk that caused more plaster to peel off. However, it managed to slice a small lock of the assailant's hair. It was the colour of fire.

A navy suit which was not there before was lying innocently on his coffee table. It was crisp and ironed. Attached to it was a note,"It matches with mine."

He guessed she wanted to finish Parris and him in one shot.

"Trying to kill two birds with one stone huh. Not gonna happen on my watch." Clint grinned dryly. He decided to go for the Gala, seeing it as an opportunity to finish the mission.

Groaning he pulled his knife from the wall and tucked it away. It was only 3AM in the morning of the Gala. He dumped unearthly amounts of sugar into a pot of coffee he was brewing. He settled into the deck chair on his balcony with the pot of coffee in his hands, sipping the hot liquid. He sat there for a long time, waiting for the sun to rise. And waited for the time to kill Natalia.

Clint hated preparing for formal occasions which required him to wear a suit. He felt that the suit restricted his scope of motion and the tight-fitting apparel was stuffy. However, he did look good in it. Despite his dashing appearance, suit-wearing Clint has hidden at least a dozen weapons on him, including several knives, explosives, and one arrow. He only brought one arrow, he was sure he wouldn't miss His trusty bow was a huge problem for the weapon tech department- it was no small feat to incorporate his inconspicuous weapon into his attire. But they did it. They managed to create a collapsible bow which he hid in a secret compartment in his shoe. Nevertheless, he still missed his combat boots.

Outside Voyage De Italia Hotel, 7pm

"Clint Barton" replied Clint, when he was asked for his name by the doorman.

"Ah, yes. Alessia Bianco's plus one right?"

"That is correct."

"That is all, you may enter. Enjoy." muttered the doorman before striking off Clint's name on his attendance sheet.

Clint nodded and moved towards the entrance. His eyes were trained on the attendance book in the hands of the doorman. Written somewhere in the middle was Adam Humbert Parris. Clint took out the thumbprint encolsed in the ziplock bag given to him by a certain assasin, using it to unlock the door to the hall. The lock gave a satisfying click and the door swung open.

The hall was decorated lavishly. Drapes hung across the ceiling, adorned by intricate golden threads. The carpet was a deep maroon colour, effectively hiding any wine stains. The orchestra was performing Beethoven's Symphony No. 5. Several couples dotted the dance floor, swaying to the music. Clint spotted her. A solitary figure at the bar. Natalia.

Out of her peripheral vision, she kept an eye on both the entrances and Parris who was chatting with an acquaintance. Natalia was bored. She silently hoped that the archer would come, as she needed something to do to kill boredom.

"Guess he ain't coming. Coward."

She requested for a glass of red wine, not her favourite, but it will do. The bartender handed her a glass and tip-toed to ogle obscenely at her chest. She had to fight the urge to break his neck right there. Smiling politely at him, she turned her seat to face the crowd. She swished the red liquid in the glass before she took a sip. It was good, but not as good as vodka. Natalia sighed and focused on the task at hand :

1)Seduce Parris

2)Lure him to a room

3)Slit his throat.

5)Deal with the archer

4)Escape unnoticed

A simple plan indeed.

She noticed familiar figure appeared at the entrance. His sandy-blonde hair was slicked back, suit and all was on point and he looked good. She would not even mind fooling with him for a night. Sadly, he belonged to the enemy. He was looking around the ballroom. Looking for her. Natalia saw his eyes flick to the windows located on the second level of the building and all possible routes of escape, before sweeping them over the crowd. She was wearing a low-cut maroon dress which hugged her body snugly. The plunging neckline was low enough to leave no room for imagination.

"A tequila, please" Clint said as he took a seat beside her. The bartender handed him his drink and he swallowed a large gulp, allowing the sweet taste to burn his throat before turning to face her.

"I thought you dyed your hair brown?" Clint questioned.

"I prefer red. It scares the shit out of my marks." shrugged Natalia.

"Well, red does look good on you." he admitted.

"Nice dress by the way, it matches with mine." grinned Clint.

"I told you it would match. What? Didn't trust me?"

"Oh I would never, babe." he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Yeah he totally trusts the Black Widow. Totally.

Natalia leaned towards him good-naturedly.

"Call me that one more time, and I won't hesitate to snap your neck." smiled Natalia, before she walked off. From afar, they looked like a couple, little did anyone know that only one of them will step out of this place alive. Clint decided to watch her from the second level, it was the ideal location to get a bird's eye view of the situation below.

When he re-emerged from the staircase to the second level. He realised that she was already making her move on Parris. He cursed himself under his breath for not taking action before, now with Parris in the way, it was going to be a challenge to kill her discreetly. He sighed. This was gonna get messy.

Natalia sauntered to Parris, who was standing at the side of the dance floor, watching couples dance enviously.

"Hey handsome, I'm bored, wanna dance?"

Parris's head turned and he stared with his jaw agape at her. He didn't recognise her from the cafe the other day. That was because Natalia was a master of disguises, wearing and peeling off masks as fast as one changes clothes.

"Erm...er... A-Are you talk-k-k-ing to m-me?" he stammered, not believing that a lady this gorgeous wanted to dance with him!

"Of course, silly!" giggled Natalia who batted her eyelashes innocently.

"Oh. Wow. I th-thought- nevermind. Sh-shall we?" he said hoarsely, stretching his palm out for Natalia to take. Parris literally dragged her to the dance floor and eagerly placed his hands on her waist while her's were on his shoulders. He was about 3 inches shorter than Natalia. The height difference allowed him to get a good view of her bountiful chest. He lifted his head and grinned at her, moving his hands lower that they are supposed to be. Taking silence as consent, he gripped her hips hard and started to grind on her.

"Guys are all the same- they just can't control their fucking hormones can they" Natalia thought in her mind, though she was glad that her plan worked as always. It never failed. Not even once. When she felt that the grinding was becoming too intense, she whispered into his ear.

"How about we take this somewhere more private hm?"

Parris didn't need to be told twice. He dragged her by hand to his hotel room. She let him drag her, allowing him to think that he was in control. That was how it always worked. Natalia would lull her mark into a fake sense of security before disposing of them. He was in such a hurry that he did not even notice someone following them. Natalia did though, she felt his eyes boring holes into her back when she was flirting with Parris. They stumbled awkwardly into the room, shutting the door locking it behind them. Once they made their way to the bed, he tore her dress off impatiently, kneading each mound roughly. Even though she was taught to use sex as a weapon, Natalia hated it. Though now she just feels numb. The thought that she was merely a weapon was hammered into her repeatedly in the red room and she dared not defy that.

When Parris's hands became far too interested in her nether regions, she decided that enough was enough. She continued to let him roam his filthy hands over her while she reached behind for a knife hidden in her hair.

Parris's hands had managed to feel the outline of her thigh holster, along with her Glock 27. He froze. He tried to escape but it was too late, Natalia pinned him to the bed while he thrashed about. Sliding her knife across his throat, she watched his blood spill onto the white linen, forming a flower-shaped pattern right where he lay. As Parris laid there with his life trickling out of him, he realised something ridiculous. He doesn't even know her name.

Natalia pulled on her clothes and sat there for awhile. Something she always did when she killed someone. However, this time she forgot about the archer hunting her.

"Poor guy."

Natalia turned her head so fast that she cricked her neck. The annoying archer was balancing innocently on the ledge of the window. She was impressed. No one was able to sneak up on her like that before, not even her trainers from the Red Room. Not to mention that he probably had to pick the lock on the window. However, she was going to kill him. Too bad.

She whipped her gun out of one of her holsters and aimed it at him. He too, pointed his bow at her heart, arrow nocked and itching to be released.

"You're gonna kill me with that? I have a gun, and you're aiming a fucking medieval weapon at me." she mocked dryly.

In a blink of an eye, Clint shifted his aim slightly and released the arrow. Natalia's pistol was knocked out of her hand, falling with a clatter onto the floor.

She recovered quickly though, coming at him with a flurry of well-aimed kicks and jabs. She feinted to the right managed to kick his feet out under him. Straddling him, she took out her knife and brought it down. He elbowed her stomach and pushed her off him. She gave a right hook but he deflected it easily. She leapt from the dresser for more elevation, clenching her thighs around his neck. Usually this move of hers could break necks easily, but he ducked his head down before she could get a good grip on him.

The fight looked more like a dance, with both parties evenly matched. Such that Natalia knew she had to use her dirty tricks to be able to escape alive. Biting the hand that held her in a choke-hold, she wriggled free. She came at him again, when the tables turned on her. He pinned her to the floor with an arm and picked up his bow. He nocked an arrow and aimed it at her heart. The arrow was digging into the fabric, into her skin, drawing blood.

And Natalia knew she was going to die.

But she welcomed it. She wanted it even.

She could finally be free.

For the first time, she looked up at her assailant and realised his eyes were a stormy grey. She glared at him, daring him to do it. To kill her. She watched her own green orbs being reflected from his stormy-grey ones.

"Do it. Kill me."

"Oh, I will." replied Clint easily.

She had already accepted it. She was so so tired, she wanted everything to end. At the hands of a beautiful archer with even more beautiful eyes. Great. She knew that in this line of work, death was inevitable, it was only up to fate to decide how soon that will be. Natalia has been living every single day desperately clinging on to life, holding on for all she was worth. She didn't want to die. But now, her thinking wasn't the same as before.

This was her first time facing this situation. Sure, she's been to countless situations in which death seemed unavoidable. However this was her first time being extremely vulnerable, at the mercy of someone else.

She was fucking terrified.

"I'm not afraid of death. Nor you. Do it now." lied Natalia, closing her eyes.

Clint tilted his head and leaned in, such that his lips brushed her ear slightly, and whispered something that made her shiver involuntarily.

"I know you're lying."

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-TBC-

A/N:

How was it omg xD HAHA I hope I managed to write it well?

I'll probably post the next chapter soon? (?) Idk :x

-Twitchzx


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note:

Hey :) I just want to thank those who reviewed so far! I was actually too busy to finish this chapter, but thanks to them I found the motivation to finish it.

School's been really tough argh D: I found like many typos in my previous chapter so I've already edited it! :)

Anyway, I hope you liked how the story is going so far! This chapter was the most challenging one I had the chance to write because I needed keep Natalia's characterisation in check :0 You may have noticed that the story is mostly in British English but with some parts that is written American English (?). From where I'm from, we speak British english. But since Clint is American, I've tried to have him speak in American english instead! So please pardon me if it sounds awkward lol

Okay I'll shut up now. Enjoy!

-Twitchzx

* * *

-Previously-

"I'm not afraid of death. Nor you. Do it now." she sneered, before closing her eyes. She had already accepted it. She was going to die. At the hands of a beautiful archer with even more beautiful eyes. Great. She hated to admit it, but she was afraid, terrified in fact. It was her first time facing death with no escape after all.

Clint tilted his head and leaned in, such that his lips brushed her ear slightly, and whispered something that made her shiver involuntarily.

"I know you're lying."

-Present-

Clint straddled the assassin beneath him, arrow aimed at her heart when he looked at her eyes.

Stormy-grey to green, green to stormy-grey.

He saw several emotions flicker behind her orbs- defiance, fear and acceptance. Even though she tried to mask her real self underneath her make-up, wearing killer heels as if she was born to wear it, the truth cannot be hidden from Clint- she was just 23. He was shocked by the amount of remorse pooling behind the green orbs. No 23 year old should feel that much pain and remorse. She was just like him, broken. He looked at her cradling her wrist (probably fractured), several bruises had already started to form where he jabbed her, a nasty cut on her forehead and she definitely sprained her right ankle when she landed wrong- all courtesy of him. Natalia reminded Clint of someone he knew a long time ago- Himself. What striked him as the most similar between them was their tenacity. Even though Natalia knew death is inevitable, she still held her chin high, taunting eyes boring into his, looking almost bored. Not going down without a fight.

It was exactly in that position in which Coulson had decided to give him another chance.

Clint knew then. He couldn't kill her. He couldn't kill someone so much alike him. It would be like denying himself a second chance at redemption. He sighed. He was going to be in so much shit.

"I'm not going to kill you."

'Did he fucking just- Who the hell does he think he is, deciding to kill or not to kill whenever he fucking pleases.' thought Natalia.

"Kill me now." Natalia stated calmly.

"No."

"KILL ME NOW!" screamed Natalia. She was furious and desperate, grabbing at straws. Here she was being pinned down by his mass with an arrow pointing at her heart. And yet he refused to kill her. She knew she deserved to die, after she lost the fight. The victor always claims the life of the loser. At least that's what she was taught since young. He won, but he decided to spare her? His actions were going against what she was taught in the Red Room. She counted on him to kill her, to end her life of killing innocents, but he refused. She always thought wishing for death was cowardly, never once has she been a coward. Until now. Natalia's emotions has been brainwashed by the Red Room, all except one- fear. They left enough fear in her to keep her obedient.

Instil enough fear in someone, and they will do anything for you, a perfect weapon. Even though she tried many ways to leave her agency, they all failed. Now all she's left with is her final plan, the one she never hopes to use. The one where she plans to die. It sounded deceivingly easy at first, it would be so simple to place her life at the hands of an enemy, as she had plenty. But now her plan was falling apart at the seams and she could do nothing but watch it crash and burn.

All because of one fucking archer. He was supposed to provide her an outlet of escape by killing her. But even he has to spoil her plan by deciding against killing her.

"Why spare me?" she spat.

"Your skills might have killed many, but with them, you can do the opposite. Look, i work for SHIELD okay? I bet your KGB has heard of us before. I won't say we're the good guys alright? But we try to kill the ones who do really bad things. You killed 377 people, that obviously put you at the top of SHIELD's shit-list. I'm supposed to kill you but I won't."

Natalia was dumbfounded. He literally told her a shitload of information about his agency. What a fool.

"I've killed 378 people. My ledger is gushing red with the blood of so many innocents. And you're letting me live?"

"You'll do more good than harm if you're on the right side. Trust me."

"Plus, you're not the only one with a gushing ledger" Clint sighed quietly.

She must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights, dazed and confused.

"Natalia. I'm Clint. Yeah I guess you know me already. I'm taking you back. Promise me you won't try to kill me when I remove my bow and arrow."

Natalia knew he would fire his bow if she refused, so she allowed herself to be captured, thinking that she could break out of the base when the time was right. She may be glad for a chance to leave the Red Room, but she has no intention of joining this SHIELD. It has to be another organisation of killers. Nodding her head, she laid perfectly still while Clint held his bow at his side. His pistol however, was still trained on her. Smart move.

"Sorry about the pistol. I may have decided to give you a chance but like hell I trust you. I'm going to cuff you now, these babies will hurt like a bitch if you decide to break them. So I suggest you don't."

Nodding her head to show she will not resist them, she held her hands out. Clint handcuffed them behind her back. Natalia tested them, they were strong, unlike other cuffs she wore which could break easily. If she tried to break them apart, a small shock was released from it.

'Alright, I got it. Do not fuck around with the cuffs, okay.' thought Natalia.

Clint reached for his comms which was turned off.

"Hey Coulson."

"What the hell Barton?! You were gone for 3 days and you all you say is 'Hey Coulson'?! I thought you were dea-"

"I'm taking her in." interrupted Clint.

He expected it but what came next still made him flinch and jerk his comms a safe distance from his ears.

"WHAT THE FUCK CLINT! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?! HOW DO YOU GUARANTEE SHE WON'T TURN ON US IF WE TAKE HER?! DON'T YOU DARE, CLINTON FRANCIS BARTON. YOU'RE NOT BRINGING HER BACK. CASE CLOSED." yelled Coulson.

"Coulson. Trust me on this. I know what I'm doing."

"Sure you are. You're not bringing her in, Clint." Coulson replied, not bothering to hide his sarcasm.

"Coulson. We're strays Coulson, strays." he whispered the last part.

"You are so screwed, Barton." sighed Coulson.

"I know." said Clint with his signature shit-eating grin.

"Extraction coming in twenty."

Heaving a sigh of relief, Clint hung up.

Natalia could not hear the entire conversation, but she could tell that this Clint Barton was getting his ass berated by someone.

"We gotta get to the roof, extraction will be here in twenty. You'll walk in front where I can see you, up the stairs now, no sudden movement aight?"

Natalia rolled her eyes, complying with the instructions and led the way to the roof. While waiting for extraction, she let her eyes roam over his slumped figure. He had a black eye from where her fist connected with his face and he had several cuts on his arms. He looked her age, 25 perhaps? He was mostly silent. But his eyes were the loudest, constantly speaking volumes of pain and grief. He held himself with strength and grace, but she knew he was exhausted and spent. She could easily overpower him in a fight right then, but something inside her held her back. Maybe this was really her chance at redemption.

"It's here." he announced.

Natalia looked to the horizon and saw nothing. A few minutes later, a small speck appeared, making its way towards them. She was impressed with his eyesight, that was probably why he was a sniper. They got onto the helicopter after Clint argued with the pilot heatedly. The pilot refused to have the Black Widow on his helicopter, but relented when Clint started to make a move for the cockpit. The Hawkeye wasn't someone to be trifled with either. Clint slept throughout the entire trip while Natalia was blindfolded, to prevent her from knowing where the base was. She was still the enemy after all. Once they arrived though, the pilot removed Natalia's blindfold first before nudging Clint awake- a wrong move. Natalia watched, impressed as Clint sprang into a defensive position immediately, gun pointing at the space between the pilot's eyes. with its safety off and his finger hovering above the trigger.

"Woah there Barton. Easy now."

After a moment, Clint sheepishly recollected himself and repositioned his gun to point at Natalia. They alighted from the helicopter together, with Natalia in front and Clint behind. Waiting across the helipad was none other than Coulson.

"Don't mess with him. He's the best chance of keeping you alive here. Don't piss him off." murmured Clint as they approached his frowning handler.

"Hey Coulson, meet Natalia. Natalia, Coulson."

"I won't say its nice to meet you Natalia. Clint, I hope you know that you're in some bloody serious deep shit right now. Fury is pissed off as fuck, Barton. He wants you two immediately once you've touched down, don't keep him waiting."

"No funny business Natalia. I won't hesitate." warned Clint as he pressed the muzzle between her shoulder blades while guiding her to the Director's office.

When they were outside the office, Clint opened his mouth and turned to Natalia, seemingly about to say something, but thought otherwise. Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair and knocked the door.

"Enter."

"Hey Fury."

"Director Fury. Whatthr fuck Barton? What did you bring her here?! She's supposed to be dead!" barked Nick Fury.

"No offence." he added, one eye on Natalia.

"None taken." Natalia said dismissively

"She's of more use to us alive than dead. Trust me on this Director. She may have killed many, but she can change, if given the chance. Like someone once was." Clint said, eyes emotionless, looking at Fury while he glared back.

Fury's gaze softened and he sighed. "I don't know how you're gonna get out of this mess this time Barton. The Council's gonna whoop your ass big time. I don't like her being here and I'm most certain she won't change. But... I'll discuss this matter with the Council first. Meanwhile she'll have to be detained. "

"Thank you, Sir." he said sincerely, grateful for the Director's trust in him.

"Tell me truthfully. Do you want to be part of SHIELD?" Fury turned to Natalia.

"Yes." lied Natalia.

"We both know you're lying, Romanova." his eyes dangerous.

"Now, as for the punishment..."

Clint took a step in front of Natalia. This didn't go unnoticed by her.

"What punishment?"

"Agent Barton, you've disobeyed direct orders, don't you dare think that there will be no consequences. Romanova, guards will escort you to your lodgings. Be warned that our premises are heavily armed."

"Agent Barton, let us continue..."

Natalia was stripped of her weapons and flanked by six guards armed with M-16s, she knew she had no chance of making it out alive if she ran now. It was wiser for her to bid her time instead. They brought her to a cell- her so-called room. It was sparsely decorated with a single bed, dresser, sink and toilet. There were no windows or escape routes, save for the heavy metal door which was locked from the outside. Natalia sat on her bed, and played the events thats happened that day. Curling up in a corner of the cell, she thought of how she very nearly died, how Parris looked while he bled to death and the archer. It was the first time someone looked at her like that since her parent's death. Closing her eyes, she slept.

That night she dreamed of her dripping ledger, the horrors of the red room, and the stormy-grey sea.

Natalia only knew it was morning when there was a faint knock on the metal door. She tensed. But it was only the archer.

"Good Morning. Did you sleep well? " Clint bounced in, holding a tray full of something that smells suspiciously good. If anything, Natalia turned her head uninterestedly towards the ceiling, ignoring her capturer.

"Gee, why do you have to be so cold huh? I know i'm not supposed to be here, but I sorta felt bad that you're stuck in this cell, the better ones are all occupied so... Anyway, I made some chocolate chip waffles, want some?"

Natalia eyed the waffles with distaste, quite the contrary to what she really thought of them. When Natalia tilted her head as if she did not know that the brown slices in front of her were called waffles, Clint was horrified.

"You've never tried waffles?!"

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-TBC-

A/N:

I hope I did them justice xD I was contemplating whether for Clint to bring pancakes or waffles to her, as you can see, waffles won in the end ●‿●

It was so difficult writing this chapter hahaha omg T^T

Next chapter : More interactions between Clint and Natalia (YAY MY FAVOURITE HUEHUE)

I know this might seem desperate but please please review / tell me what you think about the story so far

You can tell me what you would like to see in the story, eg. headcanons etc. ( I may decide to write them )

Screw this just tell me anything T^T

Enjoy your day everyone!

-Twitchzx


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note :

Hey ya'll! How's it going? :) I've been really caught up with school work of late, and I've been struggling to complete my coursework in time T^T I'm really sorry that you all had to wait for so long for this update :( Anyway, a big THANK YOU to those who reviewed! :D I didn't know what's going to happen next in this series, the past few chapters were pretty aimless without advancement in the plot D: I'm suffering from like a HUGE writer's block so please pardon me ;_;

I have been experimenting with the different fonts on ff, so guess most of the words in italics will be either Natalia's or Clint's thoughts! (I can't get the strikethrough function to work for me? Idk why halp T^T )

Enjoy! :D

-Previously-

* * *

"Gee, why do you have to be so cold huh? I know i'm not supposed to be here, but I sorta felt bad that you're stuck in this cell, the better ones are all occupied so... Anyway, i made some chocolate chip waffles, want some?"

Natalia eyed the waffles with distaste, quite the contrary to what she really thought of them. When Natalia tilted her head as if she did not know that the brown slices in front of her were called waffles, Clint was horrified.

"You've never tried waffles?!"

-Present-

"You've got to be kidding me. What do they even feed you back there?!" exclaimed Clint

Natalia looked at him blankly, she was well-trained enough to know that these waffles might be poisoned. She knew SHIELD did not welcome her, but that was understandable. She didn't expect anybody to, after she burned down a entire hospital, murdered many in cold blood- and those were only the starters. Something would be wrong if nobody wanted her dead.

"It's not poisoned. Look." Clint grinned wryly, stabbing part of the waffle and stuffing it into his mouth.

"See?" he muttered as he chewed and swallowed.

"Anyway, I gotta' go. Coulson's after my ass."

Natalia raised her brow, telling him to get on with it. Clint shrugged and left the cell. She could hear a soft click, as she was locked in once again. She glanced at the still warm waffles, and her stomach growled. Knowing she would need the strength to be able to escape, she took a bite. Immediately, she revelled in the buttery taste that filled her mouth. It was delicious, she had to give him that at least.

Several days passed, with Clint popping in to deliver her food occasionally, which were a thousand times better than the ones the guards served her. The things he brought her were often simple. To name a few, french toast, pancakes and spaghetti- things she heard of, but never tasted. However, a cup of coffee was never missing from the food tray. Clint would always bring her many things to eat, but he only got himself some coffee. Some would be an understatement. He brought an entire coffee pot with him, opting to sip the black liquid through it than a cup.

Slowly, the number of times Clint visited dwindled. Natalia noticed that he looked progressively more worn out on each visit. On his third visit, he sported some evil-looking bruises. And on his 5th, his tactical uniform did nothing to hide the bandages wrapped around his arms. They were caked with blood. However when he noticed that she were staring at them, he simply grinned and shrugged it off, blaming his roommate's feline and several other inanimate objects for his current state. She knew he was lying though, and he knew that she knows. However neither of them spoke a word and a sense of understanding was developed instead. One where neither would ask personal questions.

Two weeks passed since his last visit, and Natalia was feeling restless. The room was too cramped for her to actually move about. Soon she told herself. Soon. She already knew the rough layout of the SHIELD compound like the back of her hand. All she required now was the right time. Then, she would be free. There was something left undone though. And she was determined to finish it before she left. She needed to return a debt. As tempting freedom sounded to her, she was equally, probably even more, curious about the archer. She sighed. She was so fucked. A small knock, and Clint trudged into the room next, slumping lifelessly into a chair. There were pronounced eye bags beneath his bloodshot eyes (nightmares, Natalia thought), and he was unshaven. But he was still as deadly. He wasn't stupid. Waltzing into a world-known assassin's cell weaponless was a death wish. She knew he always had a hand on his knife. And even though his eyes were currently closed, she knew that any wrong movement would cause that said knife to be embedded into her head. That she knew, as she once tested waters before. She made a sudden jab towards him during one of his visits. But he dodged it easily and slammed her head onto the floor. White spots immediately started to cloud her vision, never do that again she thought. 'I don't want to hurt you, Romanov. So quit making me do it damnnit!' Clint yelled.

So now, even though he may look unguarded, vulnerable even, it was safe to say otherwise.

"I'm leaving."

She looked up. _How long?_ She meant to ask. But pride had a knack for keeping her mouth shut. Why does she even want to know? He's an enemy anyway.

"Six months. I'll ask Coulson to fix you better food while I'm gone." he sighed quietly, running his hand through his already messy hair.

"Anyway, I'm here to tell you that SHIELD's decided to take you in. You'll have to go through several trials- health check, weapons efficiency and hand-to-hand combat tests. Nothing you've never learnt before." he said, before getting up to leave.

"Why did you take me in? Why didn't you just kill me that night?" asked Natalia, suddenly angry, her volume rising with each word, until she was yelling. How dare he ditch her here after refusing to kill her!

"And why are you even telling me that you're leaving?! I don't care!" she screamed.

"Because I might not come back alive." whispered Clint, thinking she wouldn't hear it. But she did.

Before she could stop him, he swept out of the room, leaving a cup of hot liquid in his wake. It was black coffee , exactly how Natalia likes it. He did ask her how she liked her coffee before, but she simply ignored him, not wanting to let him know anything about herself.

 _What? He thought a cup of coffee counts as a peace offering?!_ she scoffed, still pissed as hell.

But what did he mean that he may not come back alive? Natalia long knew that he was going on missions more often than usual, despite his pathetic attenpts at trying to hide it. But she also knew that he was in good form, and not many out there could beat him up like this. _However why did he return looking like death every time?_

The next day, Coulson stepped into her room in the morning with a gun trained on her. Nothing surprising.

"Clint may have believed that you can change. But I don't. However, Director Fury seems to have faith in you so he's giving you a choice whether to join SHIELD."

"What if I don't want to?"

"Then you die." Coulson stated simply.

"And you said I had a choice" Natalia grinned wryly.

"Guess I'm in then."

"Good. Here's your food. Clint made me give it to you. I can't cook so don't blame me if you get imdigestion. He could continue making food for you instead of me if he was here." groaned Coulson.

"He prepared all the food?" asked Natalia, she was astonished that the archer could cook.

"Yes. That idiot apparently thinks he could pass them to you without getting caught. He forgot to wipe his traces from the CCTV footage."

"Anyway, starting tomorrow, your training will begin. We'll move you to a proper room now. Your new schedule is already sent to your room. So if you don't mind, shall we?"

It was all so surreal. Half an hour ago, Natalia was thinking about fleeing, but now all she could think about was that she was now part of SHIELD.

Later that night, she remembered something Coulson said. It rendered her sleepless. Clint believed that she could change, however she knew she is unable to. Not because she does not want to, but because she knew she deserved no more chances of redemption. She may have joined SHIELD now, but was SHIELD any better than the Red Room? She shook her head sadly. No. No it wasn't, not by much anyway. This new organisation she joined may be more lenient, yet she knows that in this field, she would always be a killer. They would eventually send her on kill missions.

Natalia was once happy, free, innocent. Now she doesn't even know what she is. A spy? A murderer? A weapon? No. She was a killer, through and through. The Red Room not only taught her how to kill, it also taught her how to feel nothing while doing it. And now this archer, is telling her to change? She laughed, knowing it to be impossible. She has already murdered so many, how can she ever make up for what she's done? Her ledger was dripping, no, gushing with red. Her hands always scraped raw from trying to scrub the blood off them. However her soul was in the worst state. It was mangled and bloody, torn apart by what the Red Room was unable to break and what she was taught there. She knew it was wrong to kill, but yet she feels nothing after she's killed someone. She knew how fucked up she was, and that she was nothing but a broken shell. Apparently the stupid archer thought otherwise, or he would've just shot her when he had a chance.

Natalia bolted upright from her bed. She realised that the archer was wrong. She can't change, not now, not ever. It's too late for her. Her future was already set in stone. It was like trying to run away from an oncoming tsunami right at her heels. She's sure the KGB is most definitely on the hunt for her right now, and it was just about the matter of time before they found her. And killed her.

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TO BE CONTINUED

A/N:

I hope you liked it! :D PLEASE REVIEW!

Next chapter: Natalia undergoes SHIELD training (in which she excels, obviously, and Clint returns.)


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note:

Hey there I'm back yeah! :D Thank you so so much to those who reviewed! I've recently heard somewhere that Clint and Natasha are on different sides in the upcoming Captain America: Civil War movie TT^TT aaaaaahhh

Enjoy this chapter! :)

(ps. sorry if the story is moving slowly I'm trying to think of stuff to write.)

-Twitchzx

* * *

It has been two and a half months since Clint left. And as much as she wanted to hate him, Natalia couldn't.

Correction: Her name was no longer Natalia Romanov but Natasha Romanoff. The change of name was the signal of a new start for her.

New name, new employer. They wanted to give her a makeover as well, to dye her hair in a colour that was less outstanding.

But she refused. The red was her trademark and no one was going to touch it except her.

The past two and a half months had been hectic for Natasha. It happened so fast that it was a blur.

She was required to undergo the standard training which all SHIELD agents are expected to at least pass.

Natasha obviously excelled in hand-to-hand combat, wiping the floor clean with her opponent's asses.

She passed the espionage course with flying colours. She was the master of espionage after all.

However the only one thing that Natasha only scored a slightly-above average, was her marksmanship.

Her aim wasn't bad. But compared to the top scorer on the rankings, her score wasn't that impressive.

In the shooting range, electronic notice boards updated all the agents regularly with their performance, as well as their scores

if they wish to compare themselves with the rest. Natasha was in second place.

but dominating all the rankings was Agent Clint Barton a.k.a. Hawkeye.

Agent Barton was sort of the MVP in SHIELD. When his name was mentioned, it was either whispered in reverence, or spat with hatred.

When Natasha's group had one of their breaks, she would not join them, preferring to sit by herself. She always worked better alone, anyway.

She sat not too near them, but close enough to listen to their conversation. Gossips were discussed excitedly and rumours were exchanged.

So far, she had already heard enough of Clint Barton. She knew he had a dark past. And she knew that he never missed. Ever.

But she admitted she was impressed when she learnt that he shot a sniper in his eye through his own scope.

He was tasked with protecting an ally on one of his missions and he spotted an enemy sniper residing on the roof at his 2 o'clock.

The sniper saw him too and hurried to take a shot. However Clint was faster and swung the cross-hairs in his scope towards the sniper first, he squinted through his scope. There was a sudden reflection and Clint pressed the trigger.

The SHIELD clean-up squad recovered the body. Cause of death? A clean shot through the eye.

Natasha laid in her bunk, worn out from the day's training. She deliberately worked herself with no mercy,

hoping to keep the archer from her mind due to the fatigue. She was not attracted to him in a romantic way.

But she was curious. He never gave her an answer to her question- Why didn't he kill me?

She was constantly plagued with nightmares now, causing her to wake up drenched in cold sweat.

During one of these nights, she woke with a start as usual, hand grasping for her knife under her pillow. Just a dream, she told herself as she shivered uncontrollably. There were muffled voices coming from outside her door- they sounded like they were having a disagreement.

She glanced at her clock- 3.37AM. Most should be asleep by now.

She opened her door slightly and peeked through the crack. And there he was, Clint Barton.

He was barely able to stand, leaning on the wall and Coulson heavily for support. Blood was trickling out from his side- most probably from a bullet still embedded inside him. His voice reeked with exhaustion. Coulson was hauling him up, preventing him from crashing onto the floor. His face was ashen, and his eyes were unfocused. Several vicious-looking glass shards were sticking out from his arms and sides. Despite his state, he still managed to grin.

"Good to see you too Coulson."

"Shut the hell up Clint! You're supposed to be in the infirmary!"

"I'm fine. Seriously. You know me, I'm fully capable of patching myself up."

"Plus, these are nothing." Clint gestured towards his injuries.

"These are nothing?! Have you lost your goddamn mind? You have a bullet hole for god's sake!" exclaimed Coulson.

Clint was about to retaliate when he noticed Natasha. His eyes widened in surprise and they made eye contact. Help me, he mouthed.

She sighed, stepping out of her room into the corridor.

"I can patch him up if you don't mind. I owe him one anyway."

"Ah. Agent Romanoff. He's on his way to the infirmary you see, his injuries were are a bit on the serious side." Coulson frowned.

"I'll be fine. I'll go with her." said Clint, lightly shrugging Coulson's hands from him.

He stumbled towards Natasha who luckily caught him as his right knee gave out on him. Coulson looked worried.

"Make sure he doesn't die, Agent Romanoff."

Nodding her head, she helped him into her room and dumped him on her bed, before walking off to hunt for medical supplies.

When she returned, Clint was perched on an uncomfortable-looking plastic chair.

"What are you doing on my chair?"

"I didn't want to dirty your bed."

Natasha was speechless. Here he was badly injured yet he still cared about whether her bed would be dirty?

"At this rate, I'm going to stain the carpet red instead." Clint joked weakly after a long moment of silence.

Natasha grabbed the archer and literally dragged him onto her bed. Clint was opened his mouth to protest but Natasha directed a glare towards him that made him shut his mouth.

She addressed the biggest problem first- the bullet hole.

"This is going to hurt." muttered Natasha. Clint clenched his jaw as she poured some alcohol onto the gaping wound to disinfect it. She picked up a pair of tweezers and managed to extract the offending bullet put of his side. Thank god it did not puncture any major organs or he would not be able to live the night. Natasha then wrapped the area with gauze. At this point, Clint's knuckles were white from clutching the bed frame too tightly. His eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow.

"What did you mean previously?"

"Huh?"

"When you said you may not be coming back."

"Oh. That. Nahh...that was nothing, just a joke ha...ha..." Clint brushed it off awkwardly.

Sensing that he did not want to talk about it, Natasha busied herself with removing the glass shards from his arms and wrapped them up. As for his knee, she knew that it was dislocated. She was about to warn him about the oncoming pain, but when she looked up, he simply nodded his head, telling her to get on with it. Natasha straightened his entire leg, before holding his knee and twisting it back into place. Clint jerked in pain, but made no sound.

"That's about all then."

"Thank you." he gasped, before making a motion towards the door.

"Stay." said Natasha.

"You're barely in the right state to even move, so don't."

"But Natalia-"

"Natasha. My name is Natasha." she interrupted.

"So you're Romanoff now? Why the sudden change?"

"Yeah. Needed to. New name, new person, see?"

"Not really. We can never be different from what we were before." said Clint, his eyes hiding something dangerous beneath them, like a secret threatening to spill. The air was filled with tension, both waiting for the other to pounce for the final kill. But nothing happened.

"I like it. Natasha's a good name."

"Thank you."

After an awkward moment of silence, Natasha realised that she was barely dressed. And they were on her bed. She was only in her sports bra and a pair of really short shorts. Yet Clint did not even pay her body any attention. Not like this was the first time she thought. Natasha's fully aware that she is well-endowed, her assets never fail to draw the attention of the human male species. However Clint doesn't appear to be fazed, or even attracted to her. As much as Natasha hated using her body, she knew that she rarely had a choice.

 _I owe him a debt she repeated in her mind. He must be waiting for me to initiate..._

Clint was nearly half asleep on her bed when she placed her lips on his neck. She kissed his neck hungrily while tracing the veins on his toned arms. She was about to venture into other less than appropriate regions when Clint's eyes snapped open and he pushed her away immediately. His face a flurry of shock, anger and...arousal?

"What the fuck Natasha?!" he shouted hoarsely.

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TO BE CONTINUED

A/N:

I hope you liked this chapter! :D Don't hesitate sending me ideas or headcanons yeah.

Please review!

Next Chapter: STRIKE TEAM DELTA.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note:

Okay so here we have the seventh you to all my readers who reviewed/followed/added this story to their favourites, it really means a lot to me because ya'll are actually one of my only reasons to continue writing this.

Anyway, my writer's block still hasn't gone away and I'm in the middle of my Prelims, so please understand if I'm unable to update that often. (I promise I'll try though!)

Enjoy! And please don't forget to review! :)

-Twitchzx

* * *

-Previously-

Clint was nearly half asleep on her bed when she placed her lips on his neck. She kissed his neck hungrily while tracing the veins on his toned arms. She was about to venture into other less than appropriate regions when Clint's eyes snapped open and he pushed her away immediately.

"What the fuck Natasha!" his voice came out hoarse and dry.

-Present-

"I owe you a debt." said Natasha determinedly. She attempted to kiss him again but he managed to squirm away.

"Goddamnit Natasha! You don't owe me anything!" he whisper shouted, scrambling off the bed. Wincing at the sharp pain in his leg.

"You spared my life." Natasha pointed out, folding her arms.

"Yeah so?! I didn't save you because I wanted to be repaid!" said Clint exasperatedly, running his hand through his hair.

"Oh."

Clint was attracted to her. That she knew, of course. She was trained since young to exploit her assets and learn how to read men like how she read books. She could sense whether they were hooked and ready to be reeled in, or still needed a little push. She noticed that Clint didn't act like any other men she encountered before. His eyes were always trained on her face instead of her chest whenever they talked. He always kept a respectable distance away from her. And he always avoided touching her whenever possible. In other words, he was a freaking gentleman. Great. That makes my job so much easier.

"Debts need to be repaid. And I owe you. I have nothing to repay you with except my body. So why won't you let me do it?" she demanded, feeling hurt. Was her body not good enough for him?

"I don't know what you think of men, Natasha. Not all men care thinks about sex all the time. And not all of them wants to get into your fucking pants alright?! And I'm not an object that you can choose to fuck. There're some lines you just don't cross." Clint spat viciously, before turning and hobbling out of the room, slamming the door behind him. How dare she think that he would act that way? He was not the type of guy that went for one night stands. And what the fuck was she talking about a debt?! Clint was attracted to Natasha, i mean who in their right mind wouldn't? But he didn't appreciate the fact that she forced herself on him. He didn't like anyone to feel obliged to do something.

Natasha was still fuming after he left. _He can't just take me in and not tell me the reason. He can't just do that without me owing him a debt._ Natasha observed that when she questioned him about his motive of sparing her, he would either evade the question or change the subject every single time. However knowing the archer was tenacious, she decided not to push it.

Several days passed since the incident and Natasha has not seen Clint since then. He was most probably avoiding her. But so was she. Natasha could not bear the awkwardness that both have to face if they met. Yes, currently, mission incognito was the best solution. Natasha was walking towards her bunk after a long day of training, looking forward to finally showering. An piece of white card was sitting innocently on her bed. And on it was a time and location. Unexpectedly, it was signed off by the Director.

"My office. Tomorrow. 7AM. -Director Fury"

Wondering what was all this about, Natasha fell asleep. Little did she know, a similar message appeared in Clint's room as well.

The next morning, Natasha woke up early for a run. She was an early riser. The chill of the morning breeze swirled around her, causing mist to form when she breathed out. She was inside the SHIELD facility for so long that she lost track of the seasons. It was winter now. She did a couple of quick stretches and begin to run. Running always made her feel free, as if she could sprint away from herself. She prided herself as the fastest back in the Red Room. The other girls were quick, but Natasha was hella-fast. She ran for so long that she lost track of the time. Shit. I'm nearly late. she cursed while jogging to her room to wash-up. When she stepped out of her door, it was already 6.58AM.

"Oh crap" moaned Clint when he realised that is was already 6.45AM. He pulled on his clothing sluggishly while his body groaned in protest. He rubbed sleep from his eyes and made his way towards the Director's office quickly. A late Barton means a dead Barton. Figuratively, of course. Fury would probably make me do more paperwork Clint shuddered at the thought. He couldn't fall asleep the previous night. Because that means that the nightmares would come back. And they have been recurring more frequently than before. So he grabbed his bow and headed towards his refuge- the archery range. He stayed there for nearly the entire night firing arrows as fast as someone fires a gun. The dull, thunk-thunk of the arrow meeting the bulls-eye was like a drug that calmed him. After emptying about 23 quivers of arrows, he trudged back into his room and passed out from exhaustion. His nightmares however, still didn't go easy on him.

When Clint alighted at the top floor of the elevator, he spotted Natasha walking briskly towards the Director's office as well. What's she doing here? he wondered

"What're you doing here?" both asked the other suspiciously, still jumpy from that night's events. Natasha felt so embarrassed for herself that she wanted the floor to just swallow her. If not for her training in the KGB, her face would've turned beet red. She looked up into his eyes hesitantly and saw swirling dark clouds, an imminent storm. She observed that he had a severe case of eye bags and felt guilty immediately. Was I the cause of that?

Clint on the other hand was feeling more confused than embarrassed, and his eyes hid nothing he was feeling. The tension in the air was so thick that one could cut it with a knife. Without waiting for her reply, he brushed past her coldly and into the Director's office. Clint knew that Natasha was programmed to think in the form of debt and repayment. And he knew that he was being unreasonable, but he was still angry about Natasha forcing herself on him. It was wrong. Natasha opened her mouth to say something, but she quickly snapped it shut and assumed her trademark poker face once more.

Clint knocked on the door of the office once. And a swift "Enter." resounded. He took a step into the simply furnished office, with only several screens, a large meeting table, and a couple of chairs.

Adorning the walls were world maps, as well as wanted posters. Clint looked at the clock hung on the wall- 6.59AM. Thank god he wasn't late.

"You're nearly late. Where's Romanoff?" asked Fury, with the assistant director, Maria Hill by his side.

Clint shrugged and replied, "She's still outside I guess, saw her when I came in. Morning Maria."

"That's Agent Maria to you, Agent Barton." corrected Maria Hill.

Now, the relationship between Clint and Maria was an interesting one. She was stern, while Clint wasn't. Maria was fond of rules, she believed that they are the most important building blocks for SHIELD. On the contrary, Clint felt that rules were made to be broken. So it was to nobody's surprise that they clash on many occasions. Despite their differences, both Agents respect each other for their skills. Maria was one of the only few Agents in SHIELD which could give Clint a run for his money. Maria knew that Agent Romanoff was originally supposed to be dead, but thanks to troublemaker Barton, she was now one of SHIELD's. Regardless of what Natasha did in the past, Hill has been secretly rooting for the red-haired assassin.

Not long after, Natasha walked into the office. Clint shrugged and made himself comfortable, propping his legs on the meeting table. He leaned back on two legs of the chair as far as he could go without falling off. Natasha and Maria both eyed him with disgust but he just ignored them. Fury just sighed and started speaking.

"You must be wondering why I called you here today."

"Natasha." he addressed her, "You're new here. You came here as a fugitive, but though you're one of us now, don't think that I trust you. Cause' I don't. Trust has to be earned, not given. As a spy yourself, you surely know that."

"Clint," Fury said, turning to him. "Your punishment is not completed yet, am I right? Well by taking part in what I'm about to say next will clear you of them."

Natasha felt another wave of guilt slam into her. He sacrificed so much for her, yet all she did was to bring him trouble.

"You must be wondering why I have specifically called both of you here. Apparently, the Council doubts my method of handling SHIELD as they do not believe in second chances." Fury's eyes rested heavily on Clint's. Clint's demeanour darkened in response, body tensing for a millisecond. She knew Clint had an unpleasant past, but she was surprised to see the shadow of it imprinted on him. He was supposed tobe calm. He only ever lost his cool that night. Other than that, he was calm and collected all the time.

"The council wants evidence that taking the Black Widow in was not a mistake. And they want to see the infringer of the security of SHIELD to be punished as a warning to others."

Clint could feel Natasha's eyes on him when Fury said the last sentence. But he did his best to ignore it. He did not want another repeat of that night.

"You two are going to work together."

Natasha opened her mouth to protest while Clint got to his feet indignantly, ready to disapprove. But Director Fury raised his hand to silence them both and continued on.

"You both," he paused, eyeing Clint and Natasha forcefully,

"will form SHIELD's STRIKE TEAM: DELTA"

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-TO BE CONTINUED-

A/N:

Next chapter: Strike Team Delta's first mission!

Leave a review maybe? :)


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note :

Hello. I'm sorry it took this long to update. School is a bitch. Please review if you like it.  
++ Thank you to the reader who pointed out Budapest was the capital of Hungary and not Russia ! Lmk if I've made any mistakes in the chapters and I'll gladly change them!

-Twitchzx

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-Previously-

"You both," he paused, eyeing Clint and Natasha forcefully,

"will form SHIELD's STRIKE TEAM: DELTA"

-Present-

"No." stated Natasha.

She was a spy. An expert in espionage, and Fury was well aware of how her ability to work with others - or lack of it . All her life, the only thing faithful to her was solitude. Her old friends never stood much of a chance against her enemies. So she watched every single one of them die. Because of her. She learnt that getting attached only gets you killed. However as annoying as the situation seems, she could understand Fury's rationale behind his decision. She specialises in up-close-and-personal combat, while Clint prefers his distance. They were worlds apart. However, one can only imagine what they could accomplish if they managed to work together.

Clint - being the skilled tactician he is, realised this too, though faster than Natasha. Things could go south as much as they could succeed. Fury was taking far too big of a risk. Did the situation outside take a turn for the worse? Working as partners meant trust. And Clint doesn't do trust. It left his vocabulary ever since Barney. Coulson of course, was the only exception. Because adversity slapped the thought that nobody will stay by his side at the end of the day into his head. And he couldn't take anymore people dying or leaving because of him. Heck, sometimes he's even surprised that good people like Coulson chose to stay, even after realising how fucked up he was.

Director Fury raised an eyebrow, amused with how the soon-to-be partners were reacting. Barton was holding himself in his usual position, legs kicked back with his body perched precariously on the chair. He seemed relaxed and calm, but his eyes were a raging storm. Natasha on the other hand, was the better spy. But her sudden tension at the mention of the word "team" did not escape his notice.

"Its not going to work out." reasoned Clint, trying the tactical approach. "We both work better alone. You know that."

"I'm a spy, Director. I don't work in...teams, it's just not possi-" agreed Natasha.

"Look, this isn't a question. Both of you will form STRIKE TEAM DELTA. Barton, you chose to take her in and I let you. So don't disappoint me." interjected Fury, turning his head so that he could glare at them with his good eye.

Clint and Natasha didn't bother to retaliate. The Director was known for tenacious nature. Clint ruffled his hair in defeat while Natasha sighed in frustration. The Director grinned, he knew this would turn out well.

"Maria, if you may?" prompted Fury.

"Right. The briefing. Since your official handler isn't here, I'll be briefing you in his place until he returns. Your next mission will be in Budapest." announced Agent Hill.

"Budapest...isn't that the place in Russia?" asked Clint.

"That's right."

"Wait. Who's our handler?"

"Agent Coulson."

"God...that bastard. He knew about this ?!" Clint groaned, before pouting. "I even told him to send me somewhere warm for the next mission. Freaking Budapest... Are you kidding me? I'm gonna freeze my ass off there."

Natasha rolled her eyes at Clint's comment - though with a tinge of amusement. Who knew that the hawk was afraid of the cold? Her trainers used to make her run in raging snowstorms dressed in only her undergarments. She doesn't feel the cold. At least not anymore.

"Alright,.Mission time. Ever heard of Crimson? Well, their a gang headed by Rafael Stefan Filep - that's your target." announced Hill, gesturing to the photo of a gruff-looking man (probably in his early 30s) dressed explicitly in designer labels on the screen.

"See this?" Hill asked, pointing at the screen which shows a red, droplet-shaped logo with an eye in the middle. "This is their symbol. Regular members have it tattooed on them in red ink. However Rafael has it in gold."

"Unlike their fellow gang organisations conterparts, they do not occupy themselves with theft or vandalism. Instead, they set up base in Budapest, and are engaging in some form of trafficking."

"What kind?" asked Clint

"We're not sure about that. Your job is to find out. Our intel tells us its most probably drugs, but we can't be too sure. I know this mission seems ill-befitting a STRIKE TEAM's involvement, but Crimson is not an ordinary gang organisation. One of ours - Agent May, got caught while doing some reconnaissance. They mailed her partner part of her skin in the shape of a droplet with her eye in the middle."

"shit..." muttered Clint.

"Yes. So don't get cocky you two."

"When do we leave?" asks Natasha.

"In 8 days. That should be enough time for you two to pack and prepare. The storeroom can be found in basement 3 - Barton knows where it is, you can ask him. Everything you need, such as your clothing and weapons will be there. The mission file will be sent to your quarters tomorrow. Oh, and Barton, please don't set off another smoke bomb in the basement." Hill said, finishing her last sentence with a dark look aimed at Clint's direction. Clint just grinned amiably in response.

Impressed, Natasha raised an eyebrow, as if commending him for his excellent deed. Clint just shrugged and grinned.

They left Fury's office and found themselves in the same elevator. Considering there was only one elevator, there wasn't much of a choice.

"You think Fury made the right decision?" asked Natasha, trying to make small talk. Since they were going to be partners, this awkwardness has got to go.

"I don't know."

Silence.

More silence.

But with Natasha feeling ever more guilty for what she did that night.

"Look. I'm-" spoke Natasha, before the elevator gave a loud 'Ding!' and a large group of people entered the lift.

"What?" mouthed Clint.

Another mask slid into place. Natasha shook her head slightly, eyes flicking casually towards the other people with them. _Not now,_ she thought. Clint got the message and fell back noiselessly. The people who entered the lift were intimidated by them, that was obvious enough. They huddled as close to one another as possible, trying to leave as much distance between themselves and the two assassins. The lift arrived at the agents' sleeping quarters and both Clint and Natasha stepped out. They glanced at each other briefly before stalking off separately. What she wanted to say before was pushed to back of her mind.

The past few days passed like a blur. Clint managed to recover but he still complained that his knee still threw off his balance such that his shots were 'not right' by his standards (Natasha simply rolls her eyes and disagrees with him through clenched teeth as his arrows still land in the bulls-eye). He was still as tired as ever, unable to sleep as his nightmares hasn't subsided. He often wakes up to the sound of his own screaming - only muffled by the fist he stuffed in his mouth.

Natasha spent most of her time sharpening her blades and cleaning her never-ending cache of guns. She was also a victim of of frequent nightmares and often jerk awake drenched in cold sweat. Cue : spending the night in the gym, punching the shit out of sandbags.

That was how they chanced upon each other one night. Both seeking refuge from their own demons. Clint was doing some acrobatics in the gym - something he excelled in since his circus days. It was soothing to relive the familiar motions of swinging his body on the beams of the gym's ceiling. He loved the temporary moment when he was airborne after he launched himself off any support, before landing on the next beam. Acrobatics helped to take his mind off things.

He froze suddenly. Feeling someone's eyes on him. Crouching in a defensive position, he squinted in the darkness of the gym. His gaze swept over the entire place, scanning for the intruder - a familiar shadow in the corner.

He sighed, hoping that she hadn't seen what he did. He liked keeping that part of him private. Even Coulson didn't know he could do that.

"What're doing here Natasha?" he sighed.

Stepping out of the shadows, she crossed her arms.

"I could ask the same of you, Barton."

Clint manoeuvred himself until he was on the same level as Natasha.

"Well, I did ask first." Clint pointed out.

"I couldn't sleep alright?" she snapped, obviously in a bad mood.

"Well gee, fine. You're not the only one y'know."

Silence.

' _Nightmares?_ ' the unspoken question hung in the space between them. But they were aware of the unspoken understanding not to pry.

"I'm...sorry." whispered Natasha, barely audible.

"What for?"

"That night. I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay. You were confused. I get it. Just... try not to do that again yeah?" Clint smiled awkwardly.

"Yeah." Natasha heaved a sigh of relief, at least this problem was solved.

With the weight lifted off their shoulders, their mood brightened considerably.

"Well, let's not waste time. Wanna spar?" asked Clint, grinning lightly.

Sparring helped to keep her mind off things. Plus, Clint was one of the few who could actually give her a run for her money.

"I'm game if you are"

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TO BE CONTINUED

A/N:

Leave a review if you enjoyed it! (I'm sorry I'm so thirsty for these lol)

I'll try my best to update as soon as possible.

Next Chapter : Sparring.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note :

Hey there, I have a test next week but here I am writing this. I am so screwed lol. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

-Twitchzx

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They went at each other aiming to kill. What started out as a civil sparring session consisting of clean punches and kicks had somehow turned into a full-fledged brawl. Clint wasn't one who'd choose to fight dirty, but with Natasha? It left him no choice. She was the epitome of sneaky, jabbing and kicking her way through Clint's defenses. She was fast while he was strong, but they were evenly matched in terms of skills.

He managed to grapple her into a choke-hold, forcing her to submit. However she twisted her upper body and elbowed him in the ribs, causing him to stumble backwards. She charged, expecting the fight to end within seconds, but she damn, he was agile. One second he was trying to get to his feet, the next - he was behind her, tackling her to the ground. He pinned her wrists to the mat and locked them there with his iron-grip. Natasha squirmed a little but she knew it was futile when she was trapped under the combined strength of his upper body. _See Natasha? You shouldn't have underestimated him_ she chided herself.

"Let me go."

Clint immediately released her, holding his hand out wordlessly. Chivalrous bastard. But she took it anyway.

Clint flopped onto the bench and reached for the mini-fridge beside him. He extracted two bottles of gatorade (the blue ones) and tossed one at her silhouette. She caught it effortlessly. He chuckled.

"What? Thought I couldn't catch that?"

"I guessed you could, but I wanted to know."

She nodded in agreement, seeing was believing.

A comfortable silence lapsed between the two assassins, both deep in thought.

Natasha wanted to ask what was the real reason behind him taking her in. And no, she obviously doesn't believe the excuse of 'your skills are of better use here than out there' or 'you can save the world instead of harming it'. Given - those are small factors of her recruitment, but she wanted to know the main reason for his actions on that night. _What could possibly be the trigger?_

On the other bench, Clint was brooding over how the mission in Budapest was going to turn out. The twisting feeling in his gut is never a good sign. He just hoped the mission will turn out well. Besides the target of course.

Before either of them knew it, tendrils of light started to creep through the floor-to-ceiling windows, basking them in a soft morning glow. Natasha took in the sight of her partner - eyebags _(must be from sleepless nights)_ , cut knuckles _(probably from cutting 'em when trying to muffle his own screaming)_ , _bloodshot eyes (did he drink ?)_. _Man. He was in bad shape._  
Wait. Why was she caring about him again? She should be feeling indifferent. Natasha has already accepted the fact that she was a SHIELD agent, and she kind of liked it here. It was nothing like the Red Room. For once, she was contented - the closest she had ever been to happiness even, since that incident. So she couldn't afford to care for the archer. Care leads to interest and that eventually leads to love. And Love will only destroy her.

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TO BE CONTINUED

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A/N :

I know this was really short but hey, it's better than nothing amirite. I've written the rough plotline for what's going down in Budapest. There's gonna be loads of action and I can't wait to write it!

Feel free to PM me if you have any suggestions / ideas for IKYL, I'll be more than happy to hear them.

Also, do leave a review if you enjoyed this chap!

Till then, stay rad yall.

Next Chapter: Budapest-bound.


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